


Tired Skies

by Berrygood



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Poor Karkat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 22:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20317363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berrygood/pseuds/Berrygood
Summary: Karkat loves Dave. But does he deserve him?





	Tired Skies

Karkat woke with his nose smashed against the very solid force that was Dave Strider's chest. He smelled like clean sheets and sweat, and that weird dollar store shampoo they both used.

His left arm was asleep, buried under blankets and Dave's torso, and his boyfriend's hipbone was edging into his stomach in a very uncomfortable manner. He decided he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Karkat turned his head, and gazed sleepily through the one broken bit in the blinds that always let in light. He could see the sun rising. Just barely, but enough.

As he watched, the cool purples of the morning gave way to dull oranges and reds, filling and rising and consuming the sky. Soon bits of light blue appeared, scattering the warm tones and painting it's own picture in the atmosphere. Karkat watched, and waited. For what, he didn't know. But he did nonetheless.

The chill remained, for a while. Even after the sky brightened and the birds started to sing, their voices drifting in through the window screen. Under his cheek, Daves chest rose and fell, and his breathing ruffled the curls of black hair on Karkat's head. Still, he waited. His arm began to thrum with static. So, carefully, he extracted it from beneath the sleeping body.

Dave didn't move, which was surprising. Usually the slightest sound would wake him, a creak in the floorboards of their house and he would start. Karkat smiled to himself. Dave was getting better, then. Good.

Something inside him ached, deep in his chest at the feelings of adoration coursing through him. A voice, a feeling, a you don't deserve this. How silent it was, how silent Dave was, how Karkat has counted the freckles on his boyfriend's face to number exactly 18.

The word “useless” helpfully presents itself to him, emboldened in large, black lettering and settling to the forefront of his mind. That’s all he ever was, it seems to say. All bark, no bite. Not when it really mattered. Dave lies still, with a stray line of sunlight crossing his eyelids. Karkat feels, no, he knows,that this pseudo happy ending can’t be his. Someone like him doesn't deserve one. 

The bed creaks, Karkat creaks, muscles not used to movement after a rare 6 hour sleep. His t-shirt swamps him, soft and black and with a stain on it from eating salsa in bed with Dave while watching HGTV.

The memory does not comfort him, not now, not when every point of physical connection burns and makes him want to be held impossibly tight, not when the morning is too cold and everything is too quiet. He rises from the bed, knees making indents in the mattress and pads out of the room.

His ankles crack as he walks, and his chest burns, and his head burns hotter. Choruses of "you don't deserve this" scream through his head, leaving trails of blood of every color inside his skull. His eyes are crusted over, and he finally stumbles his way over to the patio doors. With a creak, they open at his touch. He absently wonders why they don’t lock them, but he guesses no one would rob a god.

Hopefully.

Barefoot on the cold slats of wood, the chill presses in. Even with his arms wrapped around himself thoughts don't cease. Maybe they never really have. This must have been what he was waiting for, he thinks. For the truth. The loneliness. The cold. He always feels like he's waiting, waiting for the next bad thing, the next terror.

As the world brightens, he sits. He has the absurd thought to sit there forever, collecting dust. Being forgotten.

Creaks sound behind him, the careful footfalls of a certain housemate. Dave appears in the doorway, with eyebags of his own and hair tousled enough for the both of them. He's wearing Karkat's socks, glasses discarded. In the dawn light, he looks ghostly. 

"Yo."

"Go away."

Dave’s face stays impassive, probably due to the early hour. But after years of living together Karkat knows the minuscule movement of his brows to mean worry. And the feeling worsens in Karkat's chest. He doesn't want Dave to see him like this, too be here, right now, when he doesn't even know what he wants and the voices in his head are dragging him away, farther, farther-

Dave steps forward, hesitantly. Like he can sense the waves of feeling pouring out of Karkat like a chocolate fountain. His steps creak on the wood, then creak some more when he sits down next to Karkat, a few inches away.

"I said go away."

"And I said I would only have one more slice of cake on Saturday, but we can't all get what we want."

Dave pays no mind to the sunset splashed against the sky, and is focused on the blades of grass at their feet. He looks pensive, to Karkat, his mouth turned slightly down at the corners. The voices mock him for how much he likes kissing that mouth.

For a while, they sit. Karkat's eyes ricochet between the sky and Dave, and a sick thought inside of his gut wonders if Dave is breaking up with him. It’s a stupid thought. But what if he is. What if he’s become unlovable even to the one person he’s truly cherished. 

“Serves me right” he thinks to himself. Letting people in was always a mistake. Why should that change? He feels like throwing up. His mouth opens on its own accord, retching up the thought,

"Are you breaking up with me?"

Dave's head shoots up, eyes huge and terrified, eyebrows raised high then bunched in the middle, and Karkat wonders if he fucked this up.

"You always do," says a voice in his head.

Dave's mouth finally forms a sentence after a few moments of it having a mind of its own,

"No! Jesus fuck Karkat, what the absolute holy hell- No! "

Dave looks scared now, leaning forward, and staring right into Karkat's eyes as he speaks.

"What- what even gave you that idea?" He asks.

Karkat feels terrible. Even more so than before.

"I just- you, you were quiet for a while. And, well, I don't know. You looked serious. And, and sad. Fuck, sorry, i’m being stupid again, just ignore me- "

It comes pouring out in a jumbled mess from Karkat's lips, and he was so, so stupid. Again, and again, he can't seem to shut up, and he's sure his eyes are misting over and he starts to get up when Dave jumps up quicker and grabs his arms.

His hands are warm, and calloused, and when Dave speaks it's rushed and scared and god Karkat feels like shit-

"Karkat, dude, no! It's just you looked like maybe you had some tough shit going on and, and I wanted to find the right words to help you out and stop everything from coming out all blegh, but now look what's happening my word vomit is all over the deck it's seeping between the floorboards it's in my socks now and it's all gross and vomit-y but really I just wanted to be here and help goddamnit, because that's what bros do when another bro is feeling like shit, we do a cuddle pile, or we talk, or we just sit down and play one or one of your alien games that doesn't involve stabbing someone and just-"

Dave's words seep into him, and now he's crying, huge red tears streaking across his face and he plants it squarely in the middle of Dave's chest, wetting his shirt. Dave's arms wrap around him, squishing their bodies together and making it a bit hard for Karkat to breathe. The bad feelings leak out with every tear, and even though in his chest he knows they're not truly gone, it feels better for now.

When he raises his head to look at Dave, he finds his boyfriend's eyes tear-filled too, and he snakes an arm up to wipe them away.

"Why're you crying, asshole?" He mutters, sniffling.

" ‘Don’t like it when you’re sad. An’ I love you.” 

"You don't deserve this", they say.

"And just so you know,” Dave says,” I wouldn't even break up with you for Obama. And you know how much I love Obama." 

"You don't deserve this", they say.

Karkat sniffles, looks down.

"Sometimes..." He starts to say, "Sometimes I feel I don't deserve you."

Dave looks Karkat right in the eyes, red to red.

"Please, Karkat. Be selfish with me. If anything, I don't deserve your bro-ship." He swallows. "Your anything."

It takes a mighty push, but Karkat heaves the voices away and decides that even if he doesn't deserve Dave by troll Jesus is he going to make sure Dave knows he's loved. So he plants a toothy kiss on Dave's cheek, then on his nose, then on his mouth, and they both start crying a little again.

"Helluva way to start a morning." Dave says, tucking his head into the crook of Karkat's neck. Karkat is tired, and emotionally exhausted, and he knows all he wants is to cuddle with Dave for the next three hours. So he mutters his request, and Dave flies them to the couch and Karkat knows. He knows that possibly, over time. Things might get better. That right now, the Bad feelings are bunched up and hidden away. And that they'll come again.

But at least he's a little more sure of who loves him. And who he loves. So he decides on something else to wait for. He'll wait for things to get better. He'll help that along, even if it requires many more embarrassing tears and opening cans of worms that he would rather stay closed. If it helps him have a unworried future with Dave, he'll do it.

Karkat looks over at Dave's face then, and spots a freckle he hasn't seen before right above Dave's left eyebrow. He kisses it. And Dave smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Self projecting into a fic? It's more likely than you think.


End file.
